


The Green Apron (Greenhouse Remix)

by JackyJango



Series: Remixes [3]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gardens & Gardening, Rule 63, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 05:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11411115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango
Summary: Erika stops by the mansion with no intentions of talking politics. Lucky for her, she and Charlotte get hit with sex pollen.Also, the world needs more of Charlotte and Erika!





	The Green Apron (Greenhouse Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theapolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theapolis/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [theapolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theapolis/pseuds/theapolis) in the [xmen_remix_madness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2017) collection. 



> For Thea's fic is a joyous medley of fun, angst and hotness! Go check it out.

           Erika knows the Xavier mansion well. More so, by the topography of metal. She knows the brass knobs that stick out of the thick oak doors, the steel of the assorted cars Brian Xavier collected and the sturdy iron that holds the pillars and frames the bunker. But this structure is new. Away from the main building and out in the open lawn. An arrangement of slim but strong iron rods set in a square and arching to form a dome. It is also where she can sense the familiar steel. The metal cap at the tip of the cane was probably to prevent the exquisite wood from damage. But Erika hopes that maybe… just maybe, it is for her.

She walks following the pull of the steel to a monstrous enclosure covered in muddled glass. Erika crosses what seems to be an open door and takes in the surroundings. There are plants everywhere. Some perched high on iron platforms and some buried deep into the ground. It’s a sea of green, giving life to new colours. There’s a clearing in the centre, barricaded by two tables on either side which in turn hold crates and gardening tools. The temperature inside is warmer; something to do with the humidity of the place, Erika thinks.

She can feel the steel cap at the back somewhere, and if she concentrates closely, she can feel the other metals, too. A set of bra hooks snug against warm skin and a clip, perched high on silky strands. Closing her eyes, she lets the feel of it overtake her- caressing her powers over the familiar metal down to every atom. 

Soon enough, the combination of the said metals drift closer to her in jerky motions. Erika smirks and opens her eyes.

Even though she had expected to find Charlotte here, Erika’s heart skips a beat when she sees the shorter woman standing a few feet away from her.

‘Why are you here?’ Charlotte asks, staring at her with a bright intensity.

Instead of answering, Erika choses to observe the uncomfortable angle Charlotte’s hip juts at, letting most of her body weight on the dark wooden cane she leans on. The dark floral skirt does nothing to hide the awkwardness of the posture. 

‘You’ve grown your hair. Good,’ is what she graces Charlotte’s question with. 

Charlotte bristles, like a cat denied a treat, ‘That doesn’t answer my question Erika!’ she snaps, ‘Why are you here?’

Without her helmet, Charlotte can kick her out of the property with a mere thought. But where’s the fun in that? This, on the other hand is  _ interesting. _

Vaguely, Erika notes with delight that Charlotte has put on a few kilograms of weight. It’s a development, a delicious one at that. She had retched when she had seen Charlotte fragile and thin, her face a ghostly white with wells of black under her eye-sockets, her eyes losing their charm and her hair, lifeless and short. ‘You’ve put on weight. I like it!’

‘I’m asking for the last time Erika. Why are you here?’ Charlotte asks, glaring daggers at her. A beautiful flush stains the apple of her cheeks. Erika decides that she likes the look, a lot.

‘Oh! It’s regarding the proposal concerning mutant education I have for the government. Or rather, we have for the government, and I want you to support it,’ she says with a careless shrug. 

Charlotte raises one beautiful eyebrow prompting her to continue.

Not interested in continuing the discussion in that direction, Erika points to a pot of bright red flowers behind Charlotte and asks, ‘What plant is that?’

‘It’s Poinsettia,’ Charlotte says, looking distracted only a moment before asking: ‘What about the proposal?’

‘It looks fake!’ Erika says with distaste, scowling for effect.

Charlotte closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath, probably deciding that she has had enough. Erika  doesn’t care. She only looks at the red red lips that are pressed in a thin line, the frame of brown waves around Charlotte’s face descending to cover her shoulders, the luscious swell of her breasts under the green apron, the way its hem is pulled back every time she takes a breath. Erika imagines charlotte in the green apron and nothing but it. How it would barely conceal her nipples and how the fastening at the back would sit just on the curve of her round ass. How she could duck under the apron and slip between Charlotte’s legs and lick the nectar out of....

‘It’s a xerophyte. It grows in dry conditions and hence the lack of flesh on its petals. But I assure you that it is completely natural,’ Charlotte says in an even voice; too formal for Erika’s liking.

Erika licks her drying lips and blurts the first thing that comes to her mind: ‘Good. If you assure.’ She’s almost embarrassed by her inarticulate reply but she’s just glad that the telepath didn’t catch on her thoughts. Those were dangerous fantasies to host- in front a telepath  _ and  _ without a helmet. 

‘What is this about?’ Charlotte asks with a resigned sigh. ‘You’ve never been interested in biology.’

‘That’s not true.’ Erika shrugs. ‘I have been interested in you before.’

Charlotte goes red before her, the shade highlighting the blue of her eyes further. Erika can feel Charlotte’s mind fighting a blush. But, it’s a losing battle with herself. 

Erika loves this look on Charlotte very much. Dangerously so. 

Taking pity on Charlotte, she moves to another pot on the edge of the table, hoarding a bunch of striped leaves- the stripes a variant of purple. ‘These,’ she says, hovering over the plant to look at it closely. ‘These look like stripes on a Mutants’ skin I know.’

‘No! Don’t touch them,’ Charlotte warns her. With Charlotte behind her, Erika cannot see her walking over to the pot, but she can feel it in the tight, calculated impacts the steep end of the cane makes with the soil. ‘These are medicinal plants. They’re commonly known as  inchplant .’ 

Charlotte settles her hip at the edge of the table and releases the cane. ‘Could you please pass me those pruners?’ she asks, pointing at the tools laid out on the other end of the table.  It’s iron; like Erika will ever let pass an opportunity to show off. She whistles and like a dog on a leash, the metal comes hopping in the air and halts in front of Charlotte. There’s a glimmer in the telepath’s eyes on witnessing the little show. There always has been; even when it shouldn’t. It should be a boost to Erika’s ego, but the look brings an ache to her chest she can’t quite fathom.

Charlotte plucks the pruners from the air and cuts the base of a leaf. A murky liquid comes oozing out of it. ‘The sap can be allergic,’ she says in the  _ Professor  _ voice of hers, like Erika is one of her students, asking curious questions about science. The prospect of it sends a thrill down her spine. 

This is Charlotte in her element. Standing under the clear glass of the dome and amidst bursting life. This is what she should do- nurture life, coax growth, ignite minds and guide the young. Not fight with her and argue with lesser minds. Charlotte should mould the good. Erika will take care of the gore. She always has and always will.

‘This,’ Erika says, waving a hand around. ‘It suits you.’

Charlotte doesn’t respond, she only looks at her with a cryptic expression. Suddenly, Erika realises how close they’re standing. How easy it would be for her to lean over, run a hand through the thick hair and… 

She clears her mind and throat and moves along the length of the table where a crate of red flowers sit on a bed of leaves and soil. The shape of the flowers aren’t like anything she’s seen. The red petals are like rods, swirling around a centre. They almost look alien. Erika moves closer and picks up the crate, trying to examine it closer. 

The flimsy wood of the crate gives away under her hands and the plant falls on the table in a loud  _ thud _ , the wooden splinters falling all over it. 

Erika turns to the sound of a groan behind her. There’s a pained expression on Charlotte’s face when she says, ‘Can’t you stay without destroying something for two minutes? Those were Hank’s. He was using them for his research. Now he’ll mess up this place again trying to grow them.’

‘It’s not my fault that whatever I touch breaks,’ Erika says with a shrug. She had meant it to be a teasing comment to rile Charlotte up, but she’s surprised by the guilt that washes over her own statement. She looks down to the heavy cane held tightly in Charlotte’s gloved hand, unable to look at her face.

_I didn’t mean it like that, my friend_ , comes Charlotte’s soft voice inside her mind. A shiver runs through Erika at the mental contact. So long… It had been so long.

‘Come on,’ she hears Charlotte’s voice calling out to her and pulling her out of her reprieve. ‘Let’s at least rearrange the plant. It’s not completely damaged.’ 

Whether Charlotte is speaking of the plant or her, Erika has no idea.

They manage to untangle the plant from the mess, save for one flower.  It's crushed under the weight of a thick wooden splinter, and when Erika lifts the broken plank, a thick plume of yellow dust rises into the air. She closes her eyes instinctively, and asks between the coughs that choke her throat, 'What is this? ’

Charlotte next to her is in the same  state, if not better. She clears the air with her hand and says in a strangled voice, 'It's pollen. Come away! ’

The two leave the offended area and move across to the clear end of the opposite table. By the time Erika recovers and dusts herself, she feels a heat she hadn't felt since stepping into the enclosure. Yes, the air was warmer than the outside, but now it is edging on hot. Erika removes her long coat and throws it away haphazardly on the table. 'Should it be this hot in here? ’ she asks vexed, turning towards Charlotte.

'No. This place is temperature controlled, ’ the other replies, removing her own dirty apron and gloves and leaning on the edge of the table for support. Her cane is left aside to avail the function of both her hands. 

Erika watches the movements with unmitigated attention, for when Charlotte removes the apron completely, the white top underneath does nothing to hide the pinpoints of her nipples. Erika licks her lips unconsciously, her eyes trailing down to the pale limbs below the hem of Charlotte’s skirt. Charlotte had fantastic thighs. Thick and meaty. And the ass…  _ oh _ ! Fleshy and ample. How it would ripple if she were to spank it. She could trail a hand under Charlotte's knee length skirt and…

'Erika! ’ Charlotte’s voice pulls her back from her fantasy. It’s a warning. But warnings have always encouraged her towards the forbidden and now, it turns her on more. Charlotte is panting, cheeks flushed and her eyes dilated. ‘It's the pollen. There was something in it. This is not you. Control!’ Charlotte says in a measured voice, abiding by her cautionary statement. 

It lately occurs to Erika how Charlotte’s voice was edging on a moan around her name. A sharp jolt of lust strikes her and before she knows it, she's pouncing on Charlotte, crowding her against the table and attacking her lips. 

The kiss is electrifying. Open mouthed, sloppy and  _ filthy _ . Erika plunders the telepath's mouth in sharp swipes of her tongue. Though Charlotte’s hands have balled to fists on her sides, her mouth isn’t successful in masking her interest. The shorter woman moans when Erika pulls her bottom lip in a bruising bite. It's almost like fighting on the battlefield, the need for assertion coursing through Erika. 

'Off. Off! ’ Charlotte growls pulling back, deciding that the fight is over. The telepath fists her hands in the fabric of Erika’s shirt to release it from the hold of her jeans. Once they manage to get rid of her shirt, Erika takes another deep breath and attacks Charlotte's neck. She licks the freckles as if licking the toppings off an ice cream, sucks on the skin and blows over it. Charlotte’s pulse is increasing rapidly under her tongue and her breaths are turning into gasps. Erika is sure that there would be marks come tomorrow. She vaguely wonders if she can send over some of her turtlenecks to cover them. The combined thought sends another spike of lust through her. She intensifies her ministrations while Charlotte’s nails bite down on the skin of her back. It’s funny how they always mark each other in their own ways.

Erika sets her hands below Charlotte's thighs and hefts her on to the table without leaving her spot on her neck. The telepath only pulls her closer, tightening her arms and legs around Erik's shoulders and hips. Charlotte's pants are like music to her ears; an aphrodisiac. 

For a moment, Erika thinks of laying down Charlotte on the table and crawling on top of her. But that would undoubtedly put a strain on her hip. Hadn't she already done enough damage? 

Begrudgingly pulling back, Erika asks, 'Is there anywhere more comfortable? ’

Coming out of her daze, Charlotte looks around and finally points to a grassy patch of land a few feet away from the table, shaded by a short, bushy tree. With Charlotte wrapped around her like an octopus, Erika needs only one hand to steady her when she picks her upright. She grabs her long coat with her other hand and they make it to the grass. Erika still doesn't remember how.

Once she has Charlotte settled on the bed of her long coat, she coaxes Charlotte's clothes off of her. In a clumsy tangle of limbs, they manage to get rid of the telepath's top and skirt.

Erika's throat goes dry at the sight in front of her and she stills. Charlotte's lingerie is the exact same colour as her combat suit. The lace of her bra and panties, the same maroon. She remembers from a distant memory when Charlotte had compared her outfit to a clown's costume and described the colour as tacky.

Either Charlotte is thinking the same, or she has managed to catch Erika's thoughts, because a beautiful flush washes over her cream skin and she squirms in place to hide it. 

But what spurs Erika into action is the sight of a dark patch on Charlotte's underwater, highlighted by the pale thighs surrounding it. Erika is probably is in the same state, too, but she doesn’t care about herself now, she only cares about the woman in front of her. 

A mere thought is all it takes for her to unhook the maroon bra, revealing the fleshy mounds of Charlotte’s breasts in a bounce. Aroused by the sight, she ducks her head and attacks one attentive nipple. Charlotte moans obscenely at the contact, the latter's hands coming to fist in Erika’s short hair, as if to trap her in place. Charlotte loved to have her bosoms played with. While on their road trip recruiting mutants, Erika would lay her on their motel bed and bring her to completion just by sucking on her nipples and kneading her breasts. 

Erika licks, sucks and blows on the pink stub erratically while Charlotte writhes below her with every action, her back arching to meet Erika's mouth eagerly, gasping and whining beautifully. With a tug of teeth, Erika releases the swollen nub, prompting a sultry: 'Yes Erika ’ from Charlotte. Erika pulls a patch of skin above the areola of Charlotte’s left breast into her mouth and bites in a way that would leave a nasty bruise. A weak attempt at claiming the telepath’s heart. 

Then, she begins trailing open mouth kisses down the length of Charlotte’s torso and fluffy stomach, leaving wet stripes of saliva in their wake. When Erika follows the dark trail of hair and reaches between the telepath’s legs, she coaxes them open further and licks one broad stripe across the maroon lace, wetting it even more. The taste of Charlotte bursts through her senses, tinged with nostalgia and a sullen emptiness of what she'd been missing all this time. 

'Wait! ’ she hears Charlotte's voice from above her. She stills and looks up. Charlotte has covered her face with both her hands. Suddenly, Erika fears that Charlotte doesn't want this, doesn't want  _ her _ . But all she can do is wait for Charlotte to continue, hands balled in fists, all the while formulating theories in her mind.

After what feels like a small eternity, Charlotte drops one hand to rest below her naval and sighs. Still covering her eyes with the other she says, ‘I haven’t tidied up.’ She pats the curvy end of the lace of her underwear indicating the meaning of her words. ‘There hasn’t been anybody...’ she trails off and then, after a beat: 'after you. ’

The last time had been in a fit of anger and three years ago. The ache resurfaces in Erika's chest. The doubt in Charlotte's voice, the tired resignation and her glum tone plays with the strings of her heart. She's supposed to kiss Charlotte and rid her of her insecurities, supposed to fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness, supposed to say that it doesn't have to be like this between them. But Erika has never been the one for words or supposed- tos . She has always acted.

So she wordlessly sits up and quickly removes the laced fabric from Charlotte's hips. Erika lifts Charlotte's hand resting below her naval, guides it to the top of her head and ducks down. 

She gets lost in the taste of Charlotte, burying her nose in the thick wiry hair. Charlotte shudders under her, her hips lifting instinctively to meet Erika's mouth. She licks the clit and sucks on it, burying her face further. Sweet. Charlotte always tasted sweet. Erika's hands move up to knead Charlotte's breasts in tandem with her ministrations. 

_ Yes yes yes…  _ The words flow into her head, punctuated by gasps.

Like a cat with cream, Erika licks- sometimes in broad swipes and sometimes playing with just the tip of her tongue. Both of Charlotte's hands bury in her hair, tugging at the strads vehemently. 

Erika should feel guilty for being the cause of Charlotte's eventless love life. She knew that one look at Charlotte's cane would send her suitors scurrying backwards. But she doesn't. If anything, she feels a tug of possessiveness and a surge of arousal at the fact that she is the only one to bring Charlotte pleasure. She doesn't want anyone else to touch Charlotte except her.

_ Then you bloody better make sure of it _ , comes a mental reply. Erika is proud of the stammer even in Charlotte's mental voice. 

Slowly, like the light of dawn engulfing the night sky, Charlotte's mental presence seeps into her mind. Charlotte could never disintegrate sex from her telepathy. For her, sex is more intimate, not just a reaction of the body. It’s a culmination of the mind, body and heart- the triumvirate giving the act a life. So Erika lets it, lets Charlotte lose herself in her mind. She drops down her guards and accepts her in. After everything, it's the least she can do. She had come here hoping for the same, hadn't she?

Charlotte's stomach clenches the slightest bit and her thighs around Erika's head tightens. She swipes her thumbs across Charlotte's nipples and the latter shudders violently.

'Erika. I'm... ’ Charlotte stutters before trailing off in a wordless cry. Her entire body seizes up for a moment, back bent like a bow, before jerking unrhythmically. It's only for a second that Erika thinks about the bend of Charlotte's back causing a crick in it later before an orgasm crashes through her own body, intensified further by Charlotte's recurring ones. Charlotte's mind engulfs hers, so much so that Erika can't differentiate her pleasure from Charlotte's. It courses through her like liquid mercury- fast and merciless. 

When Erika comes back to herself, she distantly realises that she's still clad in a bra and jeans. She chuckles at the thought, prompting a _We should redress that later_ from the telepath _._ Charlotte's legs have slumped to the sides of her head and there are gentle hands carding through the strands of her hair. 

She lies like that, basking  in the moment . Then, she presses a reverent kiss to the pink folds of Charlotte's skin. ' Nnng ! ’ the telepath shudders. Erika smiles to herself and begins a hike up Charlotte's body, pressing chaste kisses to every available surface of skin before settling her face in the valley of her bosom. Erika mindlessly rubs her thumb over the patch of skin on Charlotte's breast she had bitten earlier. 

'What’s that plant? ’ Erika asks finally, genuinely intrigued this time by the plant directly ahead of her in the line of vision. The drooped white flowers hang glumly from the ends of its leaves. It's odd that they haven't withered yet. 

'It's Selenicereus  grandiflorus . A cactus originating and growing in the deserts of Central America, ’ Charlotte begins in a dreamy voice. When Erika props her head up on Charlotte's sternum, the latter's face is turned towards the plant and the flush from her skin hasn't receded yet. Erika knows that science brings in a different kind of passion for Charlotte, so she listens intently. 'The plant flowers for a few months every year and the flowers bloom for only a night. In the morning, they shrink away. But when they bloom… oh!’ Erika takes in the blue of her eyes, the red of her lips and the curve of her smile.  _ Oh! _ 'They smell so lovely Erika. The whole greenhouse is filled with their scent. It's called the  _ Queen of the Night  _ in some cultures.’

Erika only looks at Charlotte and thinks:  _ yes. _

'Help me grow a bunch, ’ Erika says when Charlotte turns to face her.

'Really? ’ Charlotte asks with a hook of her eyebrows and the residuals of a smile. 'May I ask why?’

'I want to gift them to my beloved. ’

'Ah! you always were a romantic. ’ Charlotte laughs fondly, caressing the sharpness of Erika’s cheekbone with a thumb. Erika smiles. She wants to see Charlotte laugh more, and  _ she  _ wants to be the cause of it.

'You would be the only one to say that. ’ Erika smirks.

'Good. It  _ should  _ be only me who can say that, ’ Charlotte says in a decisive and dark tone. Charlotte is equally  possessive of  her, if not more.

'The next time I'm here, might I suggest that you be clad only in your green apron while you guide me through the finer points of biology? ’

Erika chuckles inwardly at the dumbfounded expression on Charlotte's face. 'For Biology, ’ she deadpans, sending a myriad of mental images as to what exactly biology might imply.

Charlotte's thoughts waver for a moment before she puts on her lecturing voice and says, 'For Biology. Of course. ’

Given that Charlotte is still in her head, she already knows that Erika's whole 'Proposal to the Government ’ act is a farce; a mere excuse to see Charlotte. But still, the telepath asks, feigning innocence: 'But won't your minions want to know about the progress on the mutant education act you proposed to the Government?’

That. Erika had almost forgotten. She’s sure she can come up with something to shut the idiots up.

Charlotte laughs brightly in her mind.

-


End file.
